


i want to do bad things (with you)

by otter_pop



Series: ♥ [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/F, Genderbending, Japanese Rope Bondage, Marking, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Rule 63, Sex Toys, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 03:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15501039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otter_pop/pseuds/otter_pop
Summary: Jongdae reached forward just as Zitao huffed. She parted her lips to argue again, but Jongdae was already kissing her, slow, tender, way too intimate for out in the open. When Jongdae pulled back, she took a moment to fix the smallest of smudges in Zitao’s lipstick.“Have a good day, hm?”





	i want to do bad things (with you)

**Author's Note:**

> [♪♫♬](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xuXTdcouCpY)

Every morning, Zitao’s alarm went off, and every morning, Jongdae was the one shutting it off, wondering why Zitao even _bothered_ with it anymore. By the time Jongdae managed to swing her arm over the empty space of the bed and turn it off, she heard Zitao rushing back into the room, hurriedly dressed, face near finished with makeup. She hardly even spared Jongdae a glance before returning to her vanity to do the finishing touches on her face.

“Good morning, dajie,” Zitao said, sounding particularly excited this morning. Jongdae rolled her eyes and buried her face in the pillows again, pulling the covers up higher. Their shared apartment was bitingly cold, and she was shirtless. Still, Jongdae muttered a sleepy reply.

“Morning, Taozi.”

“Sleep well?”

“Mmph.”

Zitao went silent for a moment, as she leaned toward the vanity mirror and finished applying her mascara. Jongdae heard the telltale click of Zitao’s tongue, sighing and cleaning up a few stray specks of mascara from her eyelid, the way she did every morning. Zitao closing her mascara, the sound of her opening a tube of liquid lipstick, her breathing quiet as she carefully moved her brush along the outline of her lips— hypnotic, in a way, if Jongdae wasn’t tired beyond belief.

Still, Jongdae rolled over on Zitao’s bed, pulled the sheets just below her sternum, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. After refocusing, she watched Zitao stand up, pulling her tank top off over her head and quickly searching for something in her hamper.

“Zhongda, have you seen my bralette?” Zitao said, still hurriedly looking for whatever she wanted, before glancing at a pile of clothes on the floor.

“Mm.”

“Quit staring at my ass. Seriously, what happened to it?”

Jongdae, unashamed she had been caught, just hummed again and let her eyes flutter shut.

“You came home and took it off in the living room,” she said after a beat. “It’s probably on the couch.”

By the time Zitao came back with her bralette and started searching for a semi-acceptable outfit to wear for the day, Jongdae was at least half awake and stretching her arms above her head with a long, drawn out yawn. Jongdae had the day off, so she planned on spending most of the day cleaning or catching up on a few tv shows she had managed to fall behind on. Minseok had asked if she wanted to head out clubbing that night (“Zitao can come with!”), but Jongdae’s entire fucking body was still sore from heading to the gym with Zitao the day before, so that was a, _“Hard pass, but maybe next week?”_

“Jiejie, what do you think?”

Jongdae blinked back from her daze, looked at Zitao standing in front of her full body mirror, smoothing her skirt down the curves of her hips and setting her hands on them a beat later. She showed a hint of skin in the space between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her skirt, sunkissed skin tone contrasting so perfectly against the pure white of her skirt. Jongdae just barely caught sight of a purpling outline of a bite on her stomach, smiling to herself.

“I think you’re too beautiful to leave me alone all day,” came her response. Zitao couldn’t tell whether to let out a huff and tell her to take it seriously, or roll her eyes and try to hide the light blush on her cheeks. Jongdae patted the side of the bed before she could do either. “C’mon, Taozi.”

“I _can’t,”_ she replied, continuing when Jongdae didn’t let up on the bed pats, “Junmyeon is finally letting me sit in on an issue meeting, I can’t pass this up.”

Jongdae didn’t grimace at the mention of Junmyeon’s name as much she used to, ever since that night they had been caught. It should’ve been obvious to Zitao from the get go that Jongdae got off on holding some semblance of power over anybody else, and that didn’t subside for Junmyeon either, Zitao’s fucking _boss_ of all people.

It also made for an interesting Christmas party at the office a week back, where Junmyeon and Jongdae had managed to bump into one another, and Zitao had to hurriedly introduce her girlfriend (and roommate) to the one person who had heard them together. Zitao swore she had never seen Junmyeon’s face as red as it was when Jongdae brushed Zitao’s hair away from her neck to reveal blooming love bites from the ride over.

“It feels frumpy,” Zitao said after looking at herself in the mirror again, giving herself the once over. Jongdae was hanging off of the bed at this point, snatching up a t-shirt and pulling it on over her head.

“Nothing you wear could be considered frumpy. Not even your frumpy clothes could be frumpy. Do you know what that word means?”

 _“Yes,_ I know what it means,” Zitao shot back, “and you’re just saying that.”

“Taozi,” Jongdae started. Zitao patted her stomach, brows furrowed and curled hair tossed over her shoulders as she stared even harder, judging herself more than she should have been.

The sudden pout on Zitao’s ruby red lips made Jongdae want to kiss her, slipping out of bed and standing behind her a moment later, barely able to put her chin on Zitao’s shoulder because of their height difference. Even without high heels, Zitao was almost a whole head taller than her. Jongdae _loved_ it.

“You’re gonna be the only person they’re looking at in that room. Look at yourself.” Jongdae reached over and tipped Zitao’s chin up, towards the mirror.

Like this, Zitao could see the strength in her jaw, the sharpness of her cheekbones, the glow of her highlight from the sun barely peeking through the blinds of her room; and Jongdae, behind her, holding her up, fingers tracing down along the column of her neck and making her flush lightly.

“My gorgeous Zitao, right?” Jongdae revelled in the pliance of Zitao’s body.

“Jiejie, I-I just did my makeup,” she protested, but very little. Jongdae let her hand fall down, to the soft expanse of skin at her stomach, fingers nudging at the band of her skirt.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to messy your pretty makeup,” Jongdae promised, leaning in and kissing Zitao’s neck. It was chaste in a way only Jongdae could manage, while Zitao still felt heat in the pit of her stomach. She hummed pleasantly as Jongdae peppered more kisses along her neck, down her shoulders. Zitao grinned and laughed softly when she realized Jongdae was standing on the tips of her toes, just to even be able to reach her.

“You’re beautiful like this too, jiejie,” Zitao teased. Jongdae smiled lazily, rested her chin on Zitao’s shoulder and looked at herself in the mirror with Zitao. Her arms rested on Zitao’s hips, pulled her in and slotted their bodies together close. With her hair still messy from sleep and residuals of her mascara under her eyes, drool marks in the corners of her lips, Jongdae was the picture of ‘just-rolled-out-of-bed’; a heavy contrast to Zitao, with her hair curled, makeup finished in neat, precise flicks and angles, and her outfit handpicked with the intention of having all eyes on her.

“Yeah,” Jongdae agreed a beat later, Zitao turning on her and holding her in her arms as she leaned in to peck a kiss on her lips. Jongdae swept her thumb over Zitao’s cheekbone, mindful of her makeup. Her eyes flickered between Zitao’s lips, to her eyes, the sharp slope of her jaw, every part she could take in without pulling away.

“Walk me to the door at least,” Zitao said. It wasn’t so much an order as it was a request, one Jongdae was more than happy to indulge her in.

At the door, Zitao quickly tugged a pair of high heels on, using Jongdae for balance while Jongdae whined and groaned in protest, watched in amusement when Zitao almost fell over trying to pull them on all the way. Elegance and grace, always, honestly.

“Are you planning on going grocery shopping today?”

“Not really.”

 _“Would_ you?” Zitao corrected, looking over at Jongdae while she slid her arms through her coat, fixing the collar. “It’s cold, jie. And I went shopping last time!”

Jongdae whined again, to which Zitao matched her, until Jongdae sighed. “You seriously owe me.”

 _“I_ owe _you?”_ Zitao laughed.

“I’m deserving,” Jongdae remarked, arms crossed over her chest. “Especially because you wake me up with that stupid alarm every morning. I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.”

Zitao did her best to hide the satisfied grin on her face, and Jongdae pretended she didn’t know exactly why Zitao had that alarm on.

“And say hello to Junmyeonie for me.”

“You always say that before I leave, too,” Zitao said, stepping out with her purse hanging off her arm. “Can’t you say anything else?”

Jongdae reached forward just as Zitao huffed. She parted her lips to argue again, but Jongdae was already kissing her, slow, tender, way too intimate for out in the open, as one of their other neighbors walked by walking her dogs. Zitao couldn’t help but blush, letting out a soft moan as Jongdae cupped her cheek, let her hand slide down to her neck to hold her in place. When Jongdae pulled back, she took a moment to fix the smallest of smudges in Zitao’s lipstick. Thank _god_ Zitao had invested in long lasting liquid lipsticks.

“Have a good day, hm?”

Zitao blushed the entire way to the car, even as she pulled out her compact and fixed her makeup, because of course Jongdae left a little part of it messied, for her coworkers to see later.

  
  
  
  
  


Junmyeon was a woman of few words to Zitao, which was to say that she forgot to mention... a lot of shit to Zitao. Like the fact that Zitao was most definitely a part of the meeting this morning, but also completely neglecting the fact that Junmyeon then also had a meeting with overseas partners. While Zitao could navigate her way through three different languages just fine, it seemed the partners were from Thailand, and Zitao had to tap this meeting out, opting to stay on the sidelines as Junmyeon’s assistant. Junmyeon was more than accepting of that.

Which left Zitao to sit outside of the meeting, legs crossed, while she lazily scrolled through her Instagram feed. Minseok had posted for the first time in a long while. The picture was two hands clasped together, and a lack of a caption. Typical Minseok type stuff. It’d be another few months before Minseok even remembered Instagram existed.

Jongdae hadn’t texted her all day, which wasn’t odd, but Zitao felt like lately there had been a growing space between the two, like Zitao was a touch too busy with work, and Jongdae too impatient to wait around for her. Jongdae didn’t complain. In fact, she was probably Zitao’s most avid supporter when it came to her career— whatever it seemed to be now, but that didn’t negate the ache in her chest when she came home and found Jongdae already fast asleep in her own room, or the twinge of jealousy she’d feel when Jongdae mentioned heading out to the club with Minseok, even though she trusted Jongdae and knew better than to even think Jongdae would ever fool around.

And even that morning, with Jongdae’s arms snaked around her body and her lips all over her neck, bites lingering a touch longer than normal; it’s not like Jongdae was letting up, but Zitao wanted— she _needed_ something more.

Zitao could imagine the way Jongdae would call her needy, tell her she thrived on attention and praise, but it wasn’t like Jongdae didn’t enjoy indulging her in it, either.

As if on cue, Jongdae sent Zitao a text, interrupting her mindless scrolling with the quiet _ping!_ notification, while Zitao tapped on it.

 **Daejie:**  
Meeting done?  
**(11:30am)**

 **Taozi:** ****  
yeah, but jm has me sitting outside of another meeting :(  
super bored  
**(11:31am)**

It took Jongdae a minute or two to respond, while Zitao hummed impatiently and tapped her fingers against her phone screen, as if willing Jongdae’s typing bubble to hurry the hell up and get to her already.

 **Daejie:**  
Look what came in the mail.  
**(11:33am)**

Jongdae was a pretty cut and dry texter, which was funny to Zitao, to be honest. But she would tease her for it later, after she realized Jongdae had sent a picture along with the text. She tapped on it, only able to see Jongdae’s hands and... something sitting on her thighs in the thumbnail.

The picture opened a beat later, and she found herself staring at a set of neatly tied up ropes sitting on Jongdae’s thighs, pink and shiny and _cute._ Zitao felt her face flush and a shiver roll down her spine as she realized anybody could have been looking over her shoulder, could have passed by and seen what she was looking at, but didn’t care.

 **Taozi:** ****  
I didnt think you were actually gonna buy them!! >.<  
**(11:34am)**

 **Daejie:** ****  
You said you wanted to try, and I’ve been reading about it a lot.  
**(11:34am)**

Leave it to Jongdae to do something so stupidly endearing— like, fucking _dumb_ endearing, because Zitao had only mentioned being tied up twice before, and only in the heat of the moment, when Jongdae had her pinned down on the bed, two fingers inside of her and her other hand on her throat. It wasn’t so embarrassing admitting it, but seeing Jongdae holding the ropes now definitely made it more tangible, made Zitao cross and uncross her legs in her seat because she realized the pressure from her thighs was just a touch too much— and, like, okay, _maybe_ Zitao was a little turned on this morning when Jongdae was kissing her and touching her, but could anyone really blame her? Even though Jongdae was teasing and still looked half asleep during, Zitao preened herself under the attention and praise Jongdae showered her with. She could admit to be a little spoiled from it, okay.

 **Taozi:** ****  
Tonight?  
**(11:35am)**

Just as Zitao tapped ‘send’ on the message, she heard the door to the meeting room swing open, jumping to her feet faster than she could realize her phone was clattering to the ground with the action. She waited until Junmyeon was finished saying her dues to the other clients, to even think of glancing down at her phone. It buzzed on the floor, and just as Junmyeon said goodbye, Zitao immediately snatched it up, stuffing it in her purse.

Junmyeon hardly even spared Zitao a look as she nodded and the two started their walk downstairs.

“I take it the meeting went well,” Zitao said, as they stepped inside of the elevator. Zitao was the first to jab at the ‘lobby’ button, standing back in the elevator while Junmyeon straightened her pants out and checked her makeup in the pristine reflection of the elevator walls. Zitao had never felt so bougie in her life.

“We worked out a deal to begin major distribution in Thailand, so yes, it went well,” said Junmyeon, just as she lifted her pinkie finger to the corner of her lip and swiped a stray spot of lip stain away. “I also managed a dinner in the first meeting— did you catch that?”

Zitao, too enamored with the elegance Junmyeon carried herself with, took a moment to realize Junmyeon was asking her a question. She pulled Junmyeon’s planner from her own purse, flipping through the pages.

“A-ah, yes, I did catch that.”

“Did you also happen to catch your invite?” Junmyeon didn’t even look at Zitao as she spoke. Zitao swallowed hard and sudden.

“The.... Your plus one?” Zitao said, quiet, as if she was afraid Junmyeon would suddenly rescind the offer.

“Yes, my plus one. Make sure to wear something... nice?” Junmyeon flickered her gaze back to Zitao, looking her up and down. “Definitely not what you have on now.”

Zitao nodded, slow. Then she was speaking without realizing what she was saying.

“But... my roommate?”

Junmyeon seemed to snort at the mention.

“What of it?”

“Jongdae? Is she allowed? It’s a business meeting.”

“Jongdae doesn’t work for me,” Junmyeon remarked, easily shutting Zitao down. “My plus one is for one, or none at all, though I’m sure I could invite Sehunnie to join me instead.”

Zitao felt annoyance pull at her expression at the mention of Sehun, another intern starting in the same position Zitao had when she first started. Junmyeon had taken to her so instantly, so lovingly, doted on her. Zitao couldn’t say that she was _mistreated_ by Junmyeon or anything, but sometimes it really bothered her when Sehun got the gold star treatment after Zitao had been there for so long.

(And then sometimes Zitao remembered that her boss had listened to her and Jongdae fucking on the phone, and.... Well, she wasn’t _super_ bothered anymore.)

“No, I’ll.... I’ll be there.”

Junmyeon didn’t mention anything else on the subject, which Zitao figured was good. If Junmyeon was set on not having her there, she’d make it known, so this was... good. But texting Jongdae that she’d be out at dinner, instead of home for her treat, didn’t feel so good. Jongdae wasn’t even pissed off or annoyed or possessive like she usually was whenever she felt like Zitao was giving Junmyeon more of her time than she should have been, and that didn’t feel good either!

 **Taozi:** ****  
I dont even know if i wanna be at this dinner....  
**(11:49am)**

 **Daejie:** ****  
If you didn’t want to be there, you wouldn’t be there, right?  
**(11:50am)**

Jongdae was right, but Zitao didn’t want to admit to it, so she tucked her phone back in her purse, and kept quiet for the rest of the ride back.

  
  
  
  
  


If there was ever a time where Zitao was seriously considering quitting her job, it would have been after that dinner. Junmyeon had invited Sehun anyways, which earned Zitao a lot of backhanded compliments from Junmyeon, all the while she showered Sehun in attention and lovingly waited on her hand and foot. Even the other business partners seemed to notice, offering Zitao apologetic smiles. At the end of it, Yixing, if Zitao caught her name right, even slipped Zitao a card in her purse while getting ready to leave.

And now Zitao was home— _finally_ fucking home. She opened the door with ease, slow, mindful of how quiet it was in the living room. The only sound in the apartment was their space heater going, and then a quiet sigh as soon as she closed the door.

“Zhongda?”

Zitao took a few careful steps forward, slipping the backs of her shoes off and mindlessly kicking them off behind her. When Zitao rounded the couch and found Jongdae sleeping on her side, she let out the loudest breath of relief she could muster.

“Zhongda,” she repeated, quiet. It took Jongdae only a moment to respond, turning over and rubbing her eyes of sleep. She smiled sweetly as soon as she saw Zitao standing there.

“Pretty,” she mumbled. Zitao flushed. “Did you just....”, then trailed off when she heard Zitao sniffling. “What’s wrong?”

“I missed you.”

Zitao bit back another sniffle, as she crawled on the couch beside Jongdae. Jongdae made space, pulled her into her arms and carded her fingers through Zitao’s hair. Her touch was so gentle, it lulled Zitao into a quiet relaxation, breathing slow, counting Jongdae’s heartbeat with it.

“Taozi, why are you crying?”

“Just....” Zitao hiccuped, felt herself relax a bit more into Jongdae’s arms. “Just Junmyeon being herself again.”

“She’s never made you cry.” Jongdae’s tone was heavy with irritation. “What did she do?”

Zitao shook her head, nestling in close to Jongdae’s neck and breathing hard against her skin. Jongdae let her hands slide down Zitao’s sides, skating along her hips and settling there. With Jongdae so pliant, still waking up from sleep, she was... soft. Open, listening to Zitao and holding onto her like she was the most important person in her life. Jongdae pulled away to wipe a stray tear from Zitao’s cheek, only for Zitao to catch her lips in a kiss.

It only took a careful swing of Zitao’s hips to turn herself on her back, Jongdae slotted between her thighs, as she swiped her tongue across Jongdae’s bottom lip and begged her to open up. Jongdae bit at Zitao’s lips, pulled away to bite her soft skin anywhere and everywhere else she could.

“Wait,” Jongdae said, earning an impatient huff from Zitao as they parted. “Are you... are you _okay?”_ The question itself was so laced with concern, Zitao nearly started tearing up again, because even though Junmyeon treated her the way she did all night, Zitao was the one that made the decision to stay for dinner, when she should have known better. Instead, she gave up being with Jongdae for _that._

“‘M okay, jiejie,” Zitao replied, earning a small quirk of Jongdae’s brow in disbelief, because she wasn’t _really_ trying to convince Jongdae otherwise. Jongdae’s lips were pressed together in a thin line, which Zitao went to peck a kiss on, before sliding her hand down Jongdae’s arm. “Can I tell you about it tomorrow?”

Jongdae seemed to soften at that, nodding as she leaned down to kiss Zitao again, tender, sleepy. It reminded Zitao of that morning, Jongdae holding onto her and calling her beautiful, while her hair was tangled and messy. The space heater kept their living room nice and warm, but Jongdae was warmer. She tangled her hands in Zitao’s hair, messed it up and kissed along her cheeks and the corners of her lips.

The last thing Zitao remembered was Jongdae affectionately calling her a brat, as she carried Zitao on her shoulder to her bedroom.

  
  
  
  
  


When Zitao awoke the next morning, she was in her bedroom. It was far past the point her alarm was supposed to go off, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, as she sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Normally she’d be rushing out of bed, thinking up some apology to give to Junmyeon in an attempt to keep her afloat at the company, but the motivation wasn’t there. Neither was Jongdae.

As if on cue, the front door opened, followed by Jongdae’s quiet voice as she tried juggling all the things in her arms. She kicked her shoes off, Zitao could tell, as she heard them hit the wall, despite Zitao telling Jongdae not to do that so many times before.

Jongdae poked her head in the room a beat later, smiling when she saw Zitao was awake. She carried in a bag full of food, some quick breakfast she picked up, because as much as Zitao really adored Jongdae, she couldn’t cook to save her life, other than some quick noodles and an egg cracked on top, or... maybe eggs?

“Got you some breakfast,” Jongdae said, setting the bag down on Zitao’s bed. Zitao hadn’t even realized she was wearing her PJs. Jongdae must have helped her change into them last night. She vaguely remembered arguing with Jongdae in a half-asleep daze about whether or not she wanted to wear a tank top (she did, even though Jongdae said it was too cold). “How you feeling?”

“‘M okay,” Zitao said, same as she did last night, reaching into the bag and pulling out a small plastic box. She grinned when she realized Jongdae had even gone as far as getting breakfast from her favorite cafe, which wasn’t close by. “Shoulda stayed home with you last night. It was... really bad.” Zitao’s shoulders tensed as she spoke, rising with her words. “She wouldn’t even let me bring you with me.”

“She didn’t _do_ anything to you, right?” Jongdae leaned in to catch Zitao’s attention.

“She didn’t put her hands on me, or anything. She just... invited me to show me I didn’t really mean anything— to her, or the company.”

Jongdae’s jaw tensed, clearly angry, but waited for Zitao to continue.

“I just kept thinking that I shouldn’t have stayed. Should’ve come home to you instead of even trying the dinner.”

“Taozi....” Jongdae took a moment to choose her words carefully. “Junmyeon does it because she knows she can get away with it.”

“I can’t do anything about it,” Zitao replied, albeit stubbornly, with a hint of annoyance.

“Don’t _let_ her get away with it,” Jongdae said.

“Easy for you to say,” Zitao grumbled. “You don’t have to work for her.”

“Thank god for small mercies.” Jongdae noticed the way Zitao’s expression soured, picking at the food with a grimace on her face. Jongdae softened after not knowing how to respond, trying to gauge Zitao’s feelings so she wouldn’t make her mad. Jongdae really didn’t feel like arguing that early in the morning. “Hey,” she said, to catch Zitao’s attention.

Zitao looked up from her food, caught off guard when Jongdae leaned in and kissed her, lips soft against her own. When Zitao melted into the kiss, Jongdae took advantage of it, to lace her fingers in Zitao’s hair and hold her close.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said, pressing her forehead against Zitao’s and feeling Zitao’s warm breath fan across her lips with a sigh. “About Junmyeon.”

“You didn’t really help much either,” Zitao blurted, sounding embarrassingly needy. Instead of getting angry, though, Jongdae just gave her a little exasperated laugh, lifted her hand from her side and swiped her thumb across Zitao’s bottom lip.

“And about me, too. I was... grumpy you stayed for dinner. Forgive me?” Jongdae pulled away with her words.

Zitao hummed, took a forkful of pancake and stuffed it into her mouth.

“Did you call in for me today?” Zitao said, even though she already knew that answer. That was why Junmyeon wasn’t blowing up her phone with angry texts and voicemails. She was sure Jongdae had called and demanded to speak to Junmyeon in specific, too, because she was that special kind of confrontational.

“Said you got food poisoning from the shitty restaurant she picked last night,” Jongdae said, which earned a sputter of laughter from Zitao. “She seemed pretty pissed I was the one calling in for you, though.”

“She’s like that,” Zitao said. Jongdae couldn’t help but get upset at the way Zitao seemed to visibly shrink with her words. She was really bothered by Junmyeon and whatever it was she seemed to do last night, but she didn’t really want to talk about it either, so Jongdae left it alone, for now.

“Baby,” she said, the pet name making Zitao blush and look up at her. “Let’s do that thing you wanted to do, today.”

“Right now?” Zitao looked too excited for her own good, an eager grin spreading on her lips.

“Maybe finish eating,” Jongdae said, punctuating her words with a quick kiss to Zitao’s lips, “and I have to shower first.”

“Oh, shit, I have to do laundry, too,” Zitao said, immediately falling back in her bed, “and grocery shopping. And I should probably shower, I smell.”

“Trust me, you don’t,” Jongdae said, standing from the bed and stretching her arms over her head. “Chores first, fun later?”

“I _guess,”_ Zitao replied, resigned to her fate. Jongdae leaned down one last time to kiss Zitao, felt Zitao lave her tongue across her bottom lip, begging through the action. Jongdae shook her head and pulled away.

“Chores _first,_ Taozi.”

Zitao whined at that, puffing her cheeks out, while Jongdae completely ignored her, opting to walk across the hall instead, to Zitao’s bathroom, leaving the door unlocked behind her.

  
  


Jongdae said _chores first,_ and Zitao took it seriously, so she got dressed and went out grocery shopping to get that out of the way. Even though Jongdae had just gone the day before, she never really picked up anything substantial, mostly because Zitao liked things a certain way in their apartment. So did Jongdae, but compromise worked for her, most of the time.

Really, all Zitao wanted to do was rush through shopping and go home. She had been thinking of those pink bondage ropes all through the day before, and even as she came home, she wondered if Jongdae would have been too tired to try, although now Zitao was glad she hadn’t followed through with that idea.

The grocery store offered a well needed distraction from it all; the more Zitao walked through the aisles, the more she remembered all the things they needed, like laundry detergent, in order to, y’know, _do_ her laundry. And Jongdae had mentioned starting her period the following week, and surely she forgot to pick up some more pads and some midol to keep her from hating herself completely, so Zitao tossed those in the cart as well. Jongdae’s periods always came with weird cravings, but Zitao would let that be a problem for her future self.

An hour had passed by the time Zitao was tossing everything in the trunk of her too-small car, bundling her scarf closer to her face as she started the engine and reminded herself she needed to get her heater checked out. Sometime. Eventually. One day!

Of course, on the way home, Zitao had to hit an accident on the freeway. That was just her luck, and with the delay looking like it was going to be a little while longer, she threw the car in park and sat back with a sigh, grabbing her phone. Jongdae had sent her a few messages, mostly asking when she thought she would be home. Now, she picked up her phone, tapped on the ‘call’ icon, and waited for Jongdae to pick up.

“Miss me already, Taozi?” Jongdae teased as soon as she answered, made Zitao roll her eyes.

“Actually, just making sure you didn’t burn the apartment down or something,” she replied with a snort. “There’s an accident on the freeway.”

“What?” Jongdae said. “Are you okay? Are you close? Did anything happen?”

“I’m fine, just stuck in traffic. I think I hit the tail end of it.” Zitao sighed, sinking in her seat when she noticed others were getting out of their cars to see what had happened, just as snow began to fall, dotting the road and their cars. “Can’t even tell what happened yet.”

What started as easy conversation between the two, Jongdae mentioning she was cleaning up the apartment and her own bedroom a bit, but not Zitao’s because Zitao’s room was a _disaster_ she didn’t even want to go near, moved into Zitao listening to Jongdae talking, and then nothing, but the two of them breathing. Zitao didn’t feel uncomfortable, had known Jongdae for far too long than to be put off by a silence.

“Tao,” Jongdae started first, catching her attention with the simple utter of her name. Zitao acknowledged her with a quiet hum. “The ropes are really soft. You’re really gonna like them.”

Zitao hadn’t forgotten about them, obviously, but wasn’t expecting Jongdae to bring them up so suddenly. She must have wanted to get Zitao into that headspace, comfortable with her own submission before actually getting home. And that meant Jongdae was eager, excited, as much as Zitao was.

“The things I’m gonna do to you, sweet Taozi— the things I’ve been _thinking_ of,” she stressed the word with a laugh. A chill ran down the column of Zitao’s spine, not because of the cold. She pressed the phone closer to her ear, as if anybody could hear her or even remotely cared about what she was doing. “You’re gonna be trembling by the time I’m done with you, baby girl.”

That pet name always had Zitao melting, and this time was no exception. She wanted to feel Jongdae’s breath across her skin when she said it, the familiar bite of her teeth, the sting of scrape on skin and Jongdae, Jongdae, Jongdae, all around her, smothering her. Zitao crossed her legs, embarrassed at how easily she could be turned on. Jongdae knew that, took advantage of it whenever she could, a professional in drawing out every part Zitao tried so hard to keep tucked away.

Jongdae knew Zitao so well, she knew Zitao was already embarrassed and red faced, and she hadn’t even done anything yet. Just called her sweet names and pressed at spots she knew Zitao loved.

“You’ll look so beautiful when you come all over my face, Taozi.”

Zitao gasped, let out a shaky _Zhongda,_ scandalized. Her thighs pressed closer, the pressure between her legs barely enough to do anything to alleviate her neediness. A throb shot through her body when she heard Jongdae laugh, just softly, like Zitao could hear Jongdae right against her ear, touching her body, fingers wrapping around Zitao’s throat and pinning her in place while Jongdae used Zitao however she wanted.

“You wanna be good for me, Tao? Scream so loud for me, your throat will hurt— touch you when you’re soaked and eat you out for hours?”

Zitao wasn’t even sure if Jongdae was going to do all those things, but they all sounded fucking _lovely,_ the stress easing from her shoulders as she sunk the last little bit in her seat, hand sliding between her thighs where she pressed her index and middle finger against the warmth of her pussy, over her pants. Zitao whimpered without realizing it, her mouth falling open easily.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself?”

“A little,” Zitao admitted, scanning the cars around her. Nobody was looking, but even if they were, Zitao was almost too far gone to truly care, as she pressed her fingers closer and let out a soft huff of breath. It wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t the same as when Jongdae did it. Her body never reacted quite the same, still excited, but not eager with anticipation. She knew what would come next with herself. With Jongdae? Never.

“Who said you could touch yourself?”

The low growl of Jongdae’s voice sent chills down Zitao’s spine, as she breathed out careful, slow, like Jongdae would chide her for that as well. With the breath she took in, she spoke.

“Don’t I deserve it?”

“You _deserve_ whatever I give you.”

When Zitao whined out her petulant response, Jongdae ordered again, _“stop, or dajie won’t let you come tonight.”_

“Jiejie, why.... I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

“You haven’t been listening to me, you’ve been touching yourself without permission, and now you’re making me wait for you? Does that sound like you’ve been good, Zitao?” Jongdae clicked her tongue before Zitao could say anything back. “And all the whining and complaining you’ve been doing.... Seems like you’d rather be punished.”

“N-no, I don’t—” Zitao stopped when she noticed the cars around her were inching forward just a bit, the traffic apparently easing up and accident clearing up. “Jie, the cars are moving.”

“Oh?” Jongdae said, tone perking up. “So you’ll be home soon?”

“If the traffic is clearing, yes,” Zitao sat up, gathering herself as she went red faced, her body reacting with embarrassment at how easy and pliant she went for Jongdae. Like, she was well aware of it at this point, knew Jongdae could pinpoint every little thing she did and didn’t like, but being hyper aware and reminded of it was too much, even for Zitao sometimes. “When I get home, are we...?” Zitao let it trail off, because Jongdae knew very well what she meant.

Jongdae hummed, as if thinking on it.

“I guess we’ll see when you get home, right?”

Which was unsubtle Jongdae code for, _“of course, Zitao, I’d indulge you in every single thing you ever wanted,”_ and honestly, Zitao could live with that. She stumbled over saying goodbye to Jongdae, shifted the car from park to drive, and carefully took her foot off the brakes. Even with the traffic moving as much as it was (compared to before), Zitao could feel an itch under her skin, an insatiable scratch, made her want to speed home and storm in without the groceries just to have Jongdae take care of it— take care of _her._

Instead, she waited. Breathed in and out, turned on the radio, tried to ignore the throb of pleasure at her core as she pressed her thighs together just once. Jongdae would take care of her when she got home. Zitao kept repeating that to herself, as she made her way through the traffic jam, and started the rest of the way home.

  
  


Jongdae didn’t come out to help Zitao with the groceries, but it was fine— Zitao managed to carry most of them in on one arm, and used the other to open the door. Jongdae came rushing out of the hall a beat after Zitao lugged all the groceries in, smiling wide when she saw Zitao, the apples of her cheeks flush with effort.

“Groceries,” Jongdae clarified, before Zitao could even get her hopes up. And yeah, that made sense, considering Zitao had bought some ice cream and some other stuff that needed to be in the fridge first, before they messed around for god knows how long. Made sense, but Zitao rushed through those as well, not listening to Jongdae telling her _relax, Zitao, I’m not_ going _anywhere._ She even hurriedly followed Jongdae to their laundry room, standing beside her excitedly, because the jug of detergent in Jongdae’s hands was the last thing left to put away.

Jongdae turned around way too casually, hands on her hips, as she let her head move to one side, watching Zitao, studying.

“My room,” Jongdae said, and then pulled Zitao into her arms, Jongdae on the tips of her toes, and Zitao leaning down just a touch, enough to kiss Jongdae. Zitao let out a shaky breath, excitement getting the best of her. She was already parting her lips, trying to lick her way into Jongdae’s mouth. Jongdae slowed Zitao down, made her step back, mindful of the step out of the laundry room.

Jongdae’s bedroom was a stark contrast to Zitao’s own. While Zitao had a vanity, and her closet full of clothes, and a _monstrous_ dresser, and the full body mirror, and— well, basically anything that was very Zitao-like, Jongdae’s was different. Her bed was usually made well, pristine white and _huge,_ and Jongdae didn’t have quite the things Zitao did in her own. A desk for her work when she brought it home, and a TV for late night binge watching, and plants on her windowsill, which Zitao actually hadn’t checked on in a while. Her lucky bamboo was growing new stalks, so she supposed it was going well.

And, like, Zitao really loved having Jongdae in her room, in her bed, in the mornings when Zitao got ready for work and wanted to spend her last few minutes at home admiring how lucky she was to have Jongdae with her. She was sure Jongdae liked being in her room, too, with how much time she spent in there when she didn’t have to.

But being in Jongdae’s room was intoxicating, heady. It was so simple, such a minor detail of their times together, but it meant everything to Zitao, as she parted from Jongdae only to tug her boots off and kick them in the corner of the room, having forgotten to take them off at the front door out of mindless excitement.

In the time it took Zitao to finally collect herself, Jongdae had bent over to open a drawer in her dresser, pulling out the pink bondage ropes, still neatly folded and tied together. They were closely followed by Jongdae’s wand vibrator, which Zitao had only ever used twice. She laid them out on her bed, near her pillows, turning then to face Zitao.

“Okay?”

Zitao had never nodded so quickly in her life, rushing forward to kiss Jongdae again. Jongdae let Zitao have her moment, fingers running through her long black hair, hands at her waist, pushing and nudging her back until they both fell over in a mess on Jongdae’s bed. Zitao giggled, earned a soft smile from Jongdae, the two of them never parting for more than a few seconds to catch their breath.

Zitao lost it again when she felt Jongdae push her skirt up, hand dipping under the band of her tights and cupping the warmth of her pussy.

“Zhongda!”

Jongdae didn’t seem to care much for her response, pulled her hand out just as quickly as she had slid it under. When Zitao caught sight of Jongdae’s expression, it had cooled, her demeanor relaxed, as if she wasn’t toying with Zitao in every single way she wanted.

“Stand up, Zitao.”

The split second of hesitation on Zitao’s part made Jongdae quirk a brow, lips parting around words before Zitao jumped up, away from the bed, and straightened out her clothes. Jongdae leaned on her elbows on the bed. She scanned Zitao up and down, bit her bottom lip, and _fuck,_ that was so fucking cliche, but Zitao couldn’t help pressing her legs closer.

“Shirt, off.”

She didn’t hesitate now, only moved to slip her shirt off, one long sleeve after the other. The air of Jongdae’s room without a space heater made her shiver, goosebumps littering her skin. Jongdae hummed, still unmoving, her eyes half lidded.

“Skirt, off. Slow.”

Zitao made to unzip the side of her skirt, mindful of every tooth the zipper caught on. Once it was loose enough, she let it fall down the sides of her hips. Jongdae breathed in so deep, Zitao could see the rise and fall of her chest.

“Tights, off.”

Every order came the same, but Jongdae’s reactions were different each time. Jongdae may have been able to read Zitao like the back of her hand, but Zitao knew she had the upper hand on Jongdae most times, that she could say, “jump,” and Jongdae would say, “how high?” Even though Jongdae was telling Zitao what to do, Zitao relished every time Jongdae breathed in deep, licked her lips, let her eyes wander and settle on the curve of her hips, the perkiness of her breasts, the fading marks on her body from past times together.

When Zitao moved to undo one of her many necklaces, Jongdae stopped her.

“No.”

She snapped her hands away from the necklace, searching Jongdae for an answer, but received none. Zitao earned the same harsh _no_ when her hands went to the band of her panties, wanted to tug them off and show Jongdae just how much she wanted her. She aches for Jongdae to pull her in and slide her fingers through her slick, but instead, whined and let her hands fall away from them.

“On the bed. Sit on your knees, facing me.”

Jongdae easily moved from her bed, standing up and grabbing the ropes along the way, undoing the knot in the middle of it to loosen the working ends. Sitting near naked in the middle of Jongdae’s bed made Zitao a little more conscious of herself than she would have been in any other situation. She noted her breathing, as she heard the burn of rope on skin, Jongdae straightening the rope out and finding the bite of it.

“Sit straight,” Jongdae ordered, forceful.

With her words came her hand on the small of Zitao’s back, and another at the base of her chest, pressing and forcing her posture straight. Jongdae’s fingers were cold, always so shocking when she touched Zitao, fever scorching under her skin.

“Safe word?”

“Lucky,” Zitao replied.

“Good girl.” Jongdae didn’t miss the way Zitao preened under the praise, so minor, but still able to send chills down Zitao’s body. Zitao straightened out again, without needing Jongdae to remind her, a pleasant grin spreading on Jongdae’s lips as she moved to loop the rope around Zitao’s waist. She pulled the rope taut against Zitao’s waist, listened for Zitao’s breath to leave her for just a moment, before breathing in deep and accommodating the rope for the inhale.

Jongdae went quiet, for the most part, eyes on the rope, as she moved to criss-cross the working end and the bite. She ignored the jerk of Zitao’s hips while manhandling her, focused only on keeping the rope tight, knots uniform and beautiful.

“Spread your legs.”

The pull of the rope on Zitao’s waist drew the breath from her again, her eyes going glassy. Zitao was already wet before all of this, before Jongdae had ordered her to take her clothes off, but she was sure she was wet through her panties now, even as Jongdae laced the rope under her crotch, the sudden pressure against her lips a sudden shock to her system.

Then Jongdae reached down and split the ropes, her fingers sliding against Zitao through her underwear. Jongdae met Zitao’s eyes, half-lidded with temptation. Zitao wanted to lean forward the few inches they were apart, kiss Jongdae. She _ached_ with how badly she wanted to feel Jongdae, but couldn’t.

Just as quickly and superficially as Jongdae had touched Zitao, she stopped. Zitao couldn’t help the way her expression dropped, brows furrowing as she let her lips part around a soft whine. Jongdae hardly paid Zitao any mind, still hyperfocused on the shift of the rope, keeping them aligned and consistent against her skin.

By the time Jongdae had finished binding Zitao from the waist down, Zitao was sure she was _soaked,_ the muscles in her thighs beginning to burn from holding herself up for so long, so strictly.

Jongdae had grabbed another wrap of rope from beside Zitao on the bed, straightening it out with her fingers after untying it and working out the kinks. Zitao couldn’t help but think of the red marks the rope must have left on Jongdae’s fingers, wanted to kiss the red streaks away, but Jongdae just traced her finger along the column of Zitao’s throat, to her chin, nail pointed against the skin. Zitao swallowed hard against it, her mouth falling open.

“You’re doing so good, my Taozi.” Jongdae’s voice was quiet, but had a soft roughness to it from not speaking for so long. Zitao’s body reacted immediately, she could feel the heat in her stomach getting worse and worse from every minor touch, every small word Jongdae spoke. Most other times, Jongdae was quick, worked her mouth or her fingers in way that made Zitao come over, and over, and over. Zitao was used to _that._ This was so new. Zitao was the one that begged Jongdae to try it with her, but this was _so_ much.

“Doing so good, listening to your unnie. You’re _dripping,_ Taozi,” Jongdae said, and as if to really drive it home, Jongdae slipped her hand down the front of Zitao’s panties, pressed her open palm against Zitao’s labia, dipped her fingers between her lips to feel Zitao slippery and wet, and so, so fucking warm. Jongdae let out her own heavy breath, trying to keep control of herself. “Down your thighs, even. Fuck, I want to eat you up.”

Zitao helplessly watched as Jongdae sucked on her fingers, let them slide down her lips before settling on the new rope she had in her hands. Trembling, Zitao willed her body to calm down before Jongdae could notice, before she would chide her for being eager, so willing to fall apart.

The next set of tying was different than the first. Jongdae kept herself level with Zitao’s face, making a knot just underneath her breasts, then pulling it tight, before making another loop above them. Zitao was far too focused on Jongdae’s expression to care for anything else, mindful of the sensations, but keeping her eyes on Jongdae, Jongdae, only her Jongdae.

The cross of rope across her chest took Jongdae less than ten minutes, unlike the other, which felt like hours, but was probably less than a half hour. As Jongdae finished the last knot and secured it against Zitao’s back, she hummed pensively, using one hand to turn Zitao just a little.

“I wonder....”

Jongdae didn’t explain what it was she wondered about, just moved Zitao where she wanted her, and then pulled her arms behind her back, without warning. Zitao breathed hard, heavy, when she realized Jongdae was tying her arms up, hand on each opposite elbow in a square behind her back. Another rush of pleasure rolled down her body, heat coiling in her stomach and making her moan, heady and low in the back of her throat.

“Does my sweet baby girl like that?” Jongdae said, allowed herself to sound pleasantly surprised. “Being all tied up, having jiejie use you how she wants— that’s right, baby, hold your hands together, just a little bit more.”

Zitao nodded, the first response she had given all night since Jongdae had started. Her back was starting to ache from holding herself up straight, and now the burn in her thighs had turned to a trembling. Jongdae must have noticed, hurried the rest of the knot at Zitao’s arms, before securing them into place and letting out a small, breathy laugh.

“Look at you. Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Zitao. All wrapped up like this.”

Zitao couldn’t even look at Jongdae, her expression, just glanced over her shoulder and swallowed hard at the sight of her arms bound up in rope, ropes pressed under the curve of her ass and lifting just slightly. When Jongdae finally turned Zitao around, she looked like she was ready to eat Zitao alive, her eyes dark.

“On your back, now,” Jongdae said. Zitao sunk to her knees, relief flooding through her muscles as Jongdae helped her lie back on the bed, turning just so her head could fall on Jongdae’s pillows, soft, welcoming. Zitao sighed, eyes falling shut for just a second at being absolutely surrounded by Jongdae, by her scent, the warmth of her bed.

Despite having her arms tied up behind her back, Zitao settled relatively quickly, comfortable. The knots of the rope pressed into her skin, combined with the tightness of them as Zitao breathed in, she hoped they left behind marks, marks Jongdae would press kisses to later and others would see when she went to work.

“You have... no idea how bad I want you,” Jongdae said, breaking her role for just a moment to be honest. Zitao blushed, starting at the apples of her cheeks and going full body, as her hips squirmed off of the bed, searching for friction, relief. Jongdae licked her lips, took a breath to steady herself. It was after a moment that Zitao realized Jongdae was blushing as well, her face flush, presumably from holding herself back, from completely giving up on what she was doing and taking Zitao. Fuck, the fact Zitao had that effect on her just made Zitao moan, her body reacting before she could think to correct herself.

“P-please, dajie,” Zitao said, her voice quiet, speaking in Mandarin, while Jongdae hummed and moved to straddle Zitao’s hips. The fact that Zitao couldn’t reach out and touch, hold onto Jongdae and bring her down to kiss her was driving Zitao insane, hips jumping again as another whine left her. “I’ve been good, haven’t I? I want— I want—”

Jongdae shushed her, pressed her fingers to her lips and shook her head.

“Good girls wait until I say so. I didn’t say so.” Jongdae’s expression hardened. “And you’ve been impatient lately.... Touching yourself when I didn’t say you could, and talking back.” Jongdae traced her finger down Zitao’s lips, to her chin, then falling to her sternum and tracing between her tits, nipples perked from the cold. Zitao shivered, arched her back into the action. “Gotta put you back in your _place.”_

When Jongdae dipped down, inches from Zitao’s face, she expected Jongdae to kiss her, bite at her lips, make them swollen and red, but she didn’t. Instead, she ducked down, bit down on the crook of Zitao’s neck. Zitao couldn’t help the soft noises that left her, as Jongdae bit her soft spots, enough to mark, not enough to draw anything else.

“You tell me everything, right, Taozi?”

A yelp escaped Zitao’s lips when Jongdae moved down her body, biting beside her nipple, too close for comfort. Jongdae’s hands immediately moved to pin Zitao right back to the bed, force behind her hands, shoving her down. Zitao whimpered, her jaw dropped as soon as Jongdae looped her fingers under the ropes and really pinned her down.

The sting from Jongdae’s teeth lingered even as she laved her tongue over the spot, then traced a circle around the areola of Zitao’s nipple. Either too worked up for her own good, or just hypersensitive from all the times Jongdae teased her, she moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“Answer.”

“Y-yes, jie,” Zitao stammered, too stunned by the sudden pain to think properly.

Jongdae moved her kitten licks from one side to the other, her hips grinding down into Zitao without realizing it. The quiet whimper from Zitao’s lips made Jongdae growl with force she didn’t realize she had, grazing her teeth against Zitao’s pebbled nipple and earning another loud whine of frustration. Zitao’s chest jumped up and down with her haphazard breathing, trying to get control of herself, really, but failing every time Jongdae scraped her teeth along her skin, laved her tongue on the marks and kissed it better.

The ropes went slack for just a moment while Jongdae let them go. They were still snug against Zitao’s hips, but the small relief gave Zitao some room to breathe again.

“And you trust me.”

Zitao nodded. Her willingness to answer so easily didn’t surprise Jongdae, but made her smile nonetheless.

On the kisses down to Zitao’s belly, Jongdae toyed with the ropes, bit and sucked marks into Zitao’s tummy and on the raise of her hip bones, before moving to her belly button and tugging at the small piercing Zitao had gotten a few months back. It was pretty, red jewels trailing down the middle of it, while Jongdae tugged, earned a quiet hiss of pain, but nothing Zitao couldn’t handle, digging her nails into her arms.

Jongdae’s light touches lasted less than five minutes, before she roughly squeezed Zitao’s right thigh, pushing her leg to the side as far as it would go with the ropes not cutting into her circulation. After kissing and biting her way down her body, Jongdae did the same with Zitao’s left, giving herself all the access she wanted to _all_ of Zitao.

“Tell me when you’re gonna come, then.” Jongdae pressed kisses along the inside of Zitao’s thighs, wet and lingering, even biting there, because Jongdae just couldn’t help herself. “When you’re gonna orgasm, I mean.”

Zitao couldn’t help the small eye roll, didn’t think anything of it until Jongdae had reached up and cupped her face, hard, catching her attention.

“Tell me, Zitao,” Jongdae said, pushing Zitao away, “or else.”

“Intimidating” was a word plenty of people used to describe Jongdae. Zitao understood how they got it from the few times they had met her without being on her good side, but only ever got to see it once or twice for herself, and usually it was directed to somebody else. Now, all of Jongdae’s attention was on her, as she lowered herself again. Zitao wanted to push herself up on her arms, look down at Jongdae and run her fingers through her hair, feel her while Jongdae kissed Zitao between her thighs.

But she couldn’t, resigned only to letting herself fall back to the pillows, neck aching from the angle she was sitting up at, while Jongdae took her time marking up Zitao’s legs. She licked a stripe up the side of Zitao’s thigh, pushed her legs apart again, before finally letting her breath cascade over the warm wetness of Zitao’s cunt. Jongdae was right; Zitao was drenched, her slick staining her panties with a dark wet spot. When Jongdae traced her fingers over her lips and revelled in how wet she was, Zitao moaned louder than she had before. Pleasure throbbed through her core, made Zitao impatient, but she waited, if only to be good for Jongdae.

Zitao’s entire body reacted when she felt Jongdae mouthing at her pussy through her panties. The first thing Jongdae did was moan, burying her face closer and licking up the seam of Zitao’s panties, making them all the more wet and tight for Zitao. Zitao fought against the ropes for the first time all night, the material digging into her arms as she pushed against them.

Jongdae may have been patient for most of the night, but couldn’t help herself from eating Zitao out like she was a feast, pushing her underwear to the side and letting the ropes hold them to the side. Zitao writhed, body shaking from her position, while Jongdae spread her lips and went down again, let her tongue dip right into Zitao without apology. She was so fucking _sweet,_ Jongdae thought, without even trying, swallowing hard against her and brushing her fingers against Zitao’s clit. At that, Zitao jumped.

“Zhongda, Zhongda, I’m—” Zitao hiccuped as soon as Jongdae pointed her tongue and licked circles around her clit, shameless in the noises she made. Zitao’s stomach tensed as she groaned too loud for her own good, grinding against Jongdae’s mouth, as much as she could while avoiding the bite and burn of the ropes.

Unlike other times, Jongdae didn’t use her fingers, only her hands to keep Zitao’s legs spread as much as they would go without hurting her. Zitao could feel her muscles stretching from the angle, her body trembling with pure, unadulterated need. Jongdae pulled back, blew a cool breath over the skin and made Zitao gasp against her desire to have Jongdae eating her out again, until she was coming all over Jongdae’s face.

But Zitao was already oversensitive and drunk on every brush of Jongdae’s hair against her body, her hands on her skin, the squeeze of her thighs and flutter of her cunt when Jongdae dipped her tongue inside of her, swallowing up whatever Zitao offered. Every stripe Jongdae licked up, over Zitao’s clit, and then circled it, pressed against it, fucking ate her out like it was a race— Zitao couldn’t take it for much longer. She tried closing in on herself, but felt Jongdae’s palm on each of her thighs, forced her legs against the bed.

“Oh, oh, _fuck—”_ Zitao let out a half sob, trying to sit up and look down at Jongdae, brows furrowed and mouth parted around a moan. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, please, Zhongda.”

The warning didn’t seem to trip Jongdae up any. Instead, Jongdae sucked on Zitao’s clit, flicked her tongue over, and over. Zitao’s eyes crossed, thighs shaking with her orgasm right on the tips of her toes, before Jongdae pulled off with an obscene _pop!_ and trailed wet kisses on the insides of Zitao’s thighs, slow, tortuous. Jongdae sat up after kissing along Zitao’s stomach, slick and spit shining on her lips as she dragged her index finger through the mess on her chin and licked it up.

“Please, Zhongda, let me come, please, I’ll be _so_ good,” Zitao pleaded, whining on the verge of begging.

Jongdae smiled down at Zitao, leaning in again as if to kiss her, but instead, reaching over her shoulder and grabbing the wand vibrator she had left behind, and Zitao hadn’t though about until she saw it in Jongdae’s hands.

“That’s adorable,” Jongdae’s grin was sly, as she leaned back on the bed, let her eyes rake down Zitao’s body and appreciating every single purpling mark on her skin. “You thought I’d just let you come like that.”

“You said I was good, you said—”

“I _said_ you misbehaved.” Jongdae stood up after shuffling over Zitao, setting the vibrator beside Zitao’s thigh and looking down at her. “You thought that was all the lesson I’d teach you?”

“Please,” Zitao repeated, stressing her words with the flex of her hips, thighs pressing together as she moaned. Jongdae shook her head, reached into the drawer beside her bed and pulled out another line of rope.

“I can tie your legs together,” she said, almost a threat. Zitao’s mouth went dry at the sound of her voice, pupils blown wide with arousal. “Don’t. Move.”

On command, Zitao dropped her hips to bed, watching every one of Jongdae’s moves, from how she handled the ropes in her hands, set them to the side just in case she really did need them later. Jongdae moved to the opposite end of the bed, brushed her hair over her shoulders, before finally looking down at herself and unbuttoning her shirt, tedious, mindful of every single slip while Zitao couldn’t do anything— just laid there and _watched._

Jongdae’s attention to detail could have been a testament to her good nature any other time, but right now, all it did was make Zitao annoyed, irritated. Her orgasm staved off after the first time, warmth still pooling in the bottom of her tummy, but _god,_ was she so close. Jongdae worked her up so good, just right, just enough to make her feel like it would’ve taken one second more.

Her shirt slid off one shoulder, hanging off the elbow. She didn’t make any moves to undo her bra, just moved to her jeans, undoing the button and zipper before sliding them over her slim hips. Zitao could feel herself getting more and more upset that she couldn’t move, didn’t even have the option. Her safe word was always there, but that was for times she thought she really couldn’t stand it, not just because she was a touch too used to getting her way.

Zitao managed to keep herself quiet, for now, watching Jongdae hungrily. After kicking off her jeans, Jongdae thumbed at the band of her own underwear, black, lacy, stark against her skin, tone drained from the winter. Zitao noted Jongdae hadn’t been grooming as of late, a small trail of hair leading from the top of her panties to just underneath her belly button— it was so _adorable,_ Zitao was easily enamored by the little things about Jongdae.

What Zitao didn’t expect was Jongdae crawling on the bed, seated at the opposite end as Zitao. Zitao could hardly wiggle herself up on her bound elbows to see Jongdae. Jongdae made a soft noise, and it took Zitao a moment to process that Jongdae had one hand down the line of her stomach, fingers touching at the band of her underwear, and the other thumbing her nipple through her bra.

“Dajie,” Zitao breathed out, hard, trembling. Her legs shook with the effort it took not to grind her thighs together at the sight of Jongdae dipping her fingers under her panties and touching herself. Jongdae was never one to be vocal, and that didn’t change now, but even the soft breaths she hiccuped out, her voice muted and rough— it made Zitao feel feverish. She couldn’t help letting out a long cry of a whine.

“Impatient,” Jongdae remarked, her words gripping Zitao’s obedience like a vice. Zitao whimpered again, quieter this time. Zitao knew she was wet; she could hear Jongdae’s fingers sliding in, and back out, the lewd squish of slick making her flush bright red. Even though Zitao could have pushed herself to sit up, watch Jongdae, it felt like her senses were being teased with the sounds, forced to stare up at the ceiling and sometimes venture a glance at Jongdae when she felt enough need to.

“Dajie, _please,_ let me do it for you, let me....” Zitao paused as Jongdae moaned, interrupted her thoughts. “Fuck, Zhongda.”

Jongdae’s quiet moans built up with every minute that passed, Zitao forced to listen to Jongdae pleasuring herself, all the while feeling herself get that much more turned on. The fact that Zitao couldn’t even help Jongdae or touch her or _look_ at her was really grating on her nerves, like she was failing Jongdae when all she wanted to do was have her come on her tongue, her lips, her face— fuck, at this point she just wanted to touch Jongdae and have her come on her _fingers_ for all she cared.

“Taozi, I—” Jongdae couldn’t even finish her sentence, the telltale sign she was going to come when she was touching herself, her hips stuttering off the bed.

The wet sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of herself got louder, faster, too much for Zitao to take without moaning with Jongdae. The more Jongdae rocked her hips off of the bed, fucking into her fingers, the louder she got, until she finally came with a stammered gasp, breathing hard and heavy, Zitao’s name on the tip of her tongue. Her thighs went tense, body shaking every time she even brushed her finger against her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” Jongdae let out after catching her breath. “Having you all tied up for me, I think it made me come harder.”

Zitao huffed, even as Jongdae crawled up the bed, hovering over her. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, as she watched Zitao’s arms strain against the ropes.

“Aw, don’t pout, baby,” Jongdae said, thumbing at her bottom lip. Zitao looked away after jerking her face out of Jongdae’s grip. “So cute,” was all Jongdae said, before moving to straddle Zitao’s legs. Zitao didn’t even bother to look at whatever it was Jongdae was doing, just kept her face turned, until she felt the ropes around her crotch shifting, accommodating for something—

The flick of the wand vibrator turning on caught Zitao off guard, the ropes criss-crossed over the head of it to keep it pressed right against her clit. It was on the lowest setting, thankfully, but still made Zitao jump at the stimulation. The moan it tore from Zitao’s lips made Jongdae grin, devilish.

When Zitao made to shift her hips, tried to grind herself down on the vibrator and further piss Jongdae off, it pressed just right against her clit. Zitao yelped, hips immediately stuttering off the bed to try getting away from the overstimulation, eyes fluttering shut as she did so.

“J-Jongdae,” Zitao whimpered her name out, body shaking as she lowered herself back to the bed.

“My pretty, perfect Taozi,” Jongdae said, moving off of Zitao’s hips to kiss her sides, along the line of her chest, up her collarbone; back down to press kisses at her nipples, licking and biting while her free hand toyed with the other. “You wanna come?”

 _“Please.”_ Zitao’s voice was so fucking urgent, shaking with the pleasure rocking through her body. Desperation didn’t even begin to cover what she was feeling. Jongdae slid her hand lower, down Zitao’s body, to the head of the wand vibrator. She pressed it impossibly closer to Zitao’s clit, earned a few _ah, ah, ah’s_ of sudden pleasure from Zitao, before going down even further, and turning the vibrations up three levels.

Nothing she could do would help her come any faster, Zitao thought, while digging her fingernails in her arms and arching off the bed again. Jongdae licked and kissed her way back up Zitao’s body, but never far enough to kiss Zitao, just barely out of reach for a kiss, a peck, even to feel Jongdae’s breath against her lips. Just her touch, her hands, this fucking _vibrator._ The ropes felt more and more like a punishment as the time went by, but _god,_ Zitao adored feeling obedient, like she was being so good for Jongdae, despite the warnings every now and again.

And obedient, Zitao was, as she felt her orgasm creeping up, goosebumps littering her thighs as her moans became high gasps, so breathy and sudden, even Jongdae knew. But she waited, Zitao throwing her head to one side and breathing out, _“Zhongda, I’m coming.”_

Just like that, the wand vibrator stopped, and Jongdae unlooped it from the ropes, and set it aside. It took a second longer for Zitao’s orgasm to ebb away this time. The clench of her thighs did nothing to calm the fact she was twitching, having been denied an orgasm _twice_ now. Any other time her and Jongdae were messing around, it was plenty of orgasms, hard and fast, as many as Zitao wanted, but now Jongdae was deliberate and careful in how she touched Zitao, to ensure she wasn’t going to come until Jongdae wanted her to.

Zitao didn’t notice the stray tear rolling down the side of her face, until Jongdae reached over and swept it away with the curve of her hand, looking down at Zitao with her brows raised, just slightly. As if asking if Zitao wanted to keep going, because she cared so much, even with Zitao’s safe word in place, she worried and wanted Zitao to be happy. After calming her breathing, Zitao turned her head, kissed Jongdae’s open palm.

“You’re so good, Zitao, you’re doing _so_ good, I’m so proud of my pretty baby girl.” Jongdae piled on the praise. She probably knew how much it was taking out of Zitao to be taken apart this way, open and willing, wanting everything from Jongdae and getting _nothing_ instead.

“A-again,” Zitao said, catching Jongdae off guard. “Again, please.”

“You want more?” Jongdae was suddenly on Zitao, her hand on Zitao’s chest, wrapping up the ropes in her hand and pulling on them, harsh. The squeeze of rope digging into her skin, marking her up— Zitao lost her breath.

“Wanna make dajie happy,” Zitao said easily, her voice soft as she spoke.

“Just me, right?” Jongdae said. “Nobody else, just me.”

“Of course, of course only you,” Zitao said, wiggling her fingers behind her back to ensure the feeling was still there.

“Then take it.”

Jongdae leaned over Zitao again, sliding her fingers through the wet precum sliding right out of Zitao, making a dark spot on the sheets underneath her, before stuffing her middle and ring finger inside of Zitao, the thrust of her fingers making Zitao choke on her spit. The pressure in the pit of her stomach had only subsided slightly, Jongdae clearly growing more and more impatient the longer she had to wait for Zitao’s orgasm, which was comical, considering Zitao was the restrained one.

The crook of Jongdae’s fingers drew long, unashamed moans from Zitao, pumping in and out of her, so languid and lazy, but enough to make Zitao claw at her arms, biting her bottom lip.

Zitao had closed her eyes, only felt the shift of the bed, didn’t realize Jongdae was leaning close, her lips just above her ear as she let out a warm breath and made Zitao twitch with the action.

“I don’t even need you to tell me you’re gonna come like this,” Jongdae teased, her tone playful. “I can _feel_ it.”

As if to demonstrate, Jongdae fucked her fingers into Zitao, chasing her up the bed with the action, until Zitao’s hips were trembling, her cunt tightening around Jongdae’s fingers. The shift, from sudden and rough to slow and careful, had Zitao holding back the most debauched noises, torture in and of itself when she felt her orgasm crawling back again. Vulgar, unapologetic, Jongdae pulled her fingers out of Zitao, made her beg for it again, until she worked up her orgasm a fourth time, always just out of her reach. The stimulation was getting to be too much, even worse than Jongdae making her come so many times in a night. Zitao could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes now, rolling down as she hiccuped and squirmed, so fucking deprived of release, she was _crying._

And every time Zitao thought she could grind herself just a little bit more, fuck down on Jongdae’s fingers, when Jongdae’s thumb rubbed against her clit in painfully delicious circles, Jongdae would pull back, slide her fingers out to glide them across Zitao’s labia, her crease of her thighs, through her pubic hair and along the base of her tummy.

At the first harsh sob to mix with Zitao’s moans, Jongdae hushed her, laid at her side and caught her attention with a soft _hey._ Zitao half expected Jongdae to just wipe the tears from her eyes and move on with it, but she felt Jongdae’s breath against her lips, so close. She surged forward without realizing it, kissed Jongdae hard enough for their teeth to click. Jongdae didn’t stop, not even to note the knick Zitao had made on her bottom lip with her teeth. Jongdae let Zitao take whatever she wanted, indulged her. Zitao licked her way into Jongdae’s mouth, while Jongdae tangled her fingers in Zitao’s hair and pulled, just enough to expose her throat.

“I think you’ve been punished enough, baby girl,” Jongdae said against Zitao’s throat, punctuating it with the scrape of her teeth. Zitao nodded frantically, felt Jongdae slot herself between Zitao’s legs and drag her hands down her bruised and abused chest. “Do you wanna come?”

“Please, please, _pleaseplease—”_ Zitao could feel another round of tears welling up, already spilling over by the time Jongdae was kissing her again. Her muscles tensed as Jongdae kissed down her belly button, to the top of her panties, now bunched up under the ropes.

Jongdae scooted down the bed, pushing Zitao’s legs apart again and settling herself between them all in one fluid motion. The quiet whimpers Zitao let out in succession only encouraged Jongdae, deciding she had teased Zitao well beyond her breaking point. Zitao let out a long, relieved sigh as soon as Jongdae licked a stripe from her perineum to her dripping pussy, and circled her clit before taking it into her mouth and sucking. When Jongdae _moaned_ against her, Zitao felt her eyes cross, thighs pressing against Jongdae’s open palms, trying to close in on herself.

All it took for Zitao was a few more flicks of Jongdae’s tongue against her clit to finally feel her orgasm washing over her body. Zitao swore even her hands were shaking as she came, stomach tensing with every hard breath she took. Jongdae didn’t stop, Zitao hiccuping and groaning, completely oversensitized from her orgasm.

“Zhongda,” Zitao started, her breathing ragged, but only cut herself off with another loud moan when she felt Jongdae’s fingers sliding into her. “Oh my god, dajie, too much— _fuck—!”_

“You deserve this, don’t you, Taozi?” Jongdae pressed her fingers into Zitao, closer to her g-spot and bearing down on it.

It was so much for Zitao, being denied and then overwhelmed like this. She felt like she could hear her heartbeat in her ears, feel it in her arms— and her second fucking orgasm was _right_ _there,_ right in the pit of her stomach already, Jongdae drawing it out of her with precision.

Zitao’s body instinctively tried getting away from the overstimulation, hips drawing up and away from Jongdae, but Jongdae growled and slapped her free palm down on Zitao’s hips, shoved her down to the bed. Zitao couldn’t help being as loud as she was when she came a second time, her throat raw as her body completely gave in to her second orgasm. Zitao wasn’t even sure if she was registering all the reactions her body was having, from the jumping of her hips, curl of her toes, nails digging into her arms; even the noises she was making sounded borderline unreal.

Jongdae didn’t slip her fingers out immediately, relishing how Zitao’s body twitched and jumped when she pumped her fingers inside of Zitao again.

When Jongdae _did_ drag her fingers out of Zitao, she hooked her arms into Zitao’s knees and pulled her down the bed again, licked up the sticky cum dripping out of Zitao in excess and swallowed it down with a pleasant hum.

“Oh fuck, f-fuck—” Zitao couldn’t get control of her breathing, stomach jumping up and down with the aftershocks of her orgasms, still. “Shut up,” Zitao immediately shot out, as soon as she saw the stupid dumb grin on Jongdae’s face, so absurdly satisfied with how she made Zitao fall apart.

“Is that any way to treat me? After I just made you come harder than you ever have?”

“Don’t— don’t flatter yourself.” Zitao tried sounding passive, but the tremble in her voice gave it away, that Jongdae really fucked her good.

Jongdae kissed her way up Zitao’s stomach, stopped at her neck to bite down one last time.

“You smell like me,” Zitao mumbled as soon as Jongdae moved to kiss her.

“Bet I taste like you, too.” Jongdae smiled as Zitao made a face. Before Zitao could manage some snarky response, she felt Jongdae brush her fingers against her panties, slipping past her labia and under the hood of her already swollen clit. Zitao immediately melted, body trembling and jaw going slack with a huffed breath. All Jongdae wanted to see was Zitao’s reaction, that she was still willing to give herself all over without hesitation.

“Shit, oh my god, Zhongda.”

“Let’s get these ropes off.”

Zitao let Jongdae turn her over, wiggled her fingers while Jongdae undid the first knot at the base of her wrists. They easily slipped away, allowed Zitao to move her arms. Jongdae let out a low whistle as she worked at the knots on the back of her chest ropes. As soon as they loosened, Zitao took a long breath, face turned to the side so she could still breathe, even with her face in the pillow. Finally, Jongdae managed to slip off her crotch rope. Even though taking the ropes off was faster than tying them on, it was just as intimate, Jongdae mindful of every inch of rope and tugging it away from her body.

This time, it was Jongdae that sounded like she was out of breath, her hands tracing over Zitao’s back and under the curve of her ass, the texture of the rope indented in her skin. It took Jongdae a moment to notice all the red marks on Zitao’s arms from her nails, turning her over again and pressing soft kisses to the scrapes and nail bites in her skin.

“My sweet Taozi....” Jongdae started the thought, wasn’t particularly one to not have the words, but none of them were there, as Zitao turned over on her back and pulled Jongdae into her arms, to kiss her, press chaste pecks to the curve of her cheekbones, over her eyelids and on the tip of her nose while Jongdae let out a gentle laugh.

Zitao was already half-conscious, her eyes fluttering shut even as she tried to stay awake. The bed was just _so_ warm, and her body _had_ to recover from everything Jongdae just put her through. All she could feel was Jongdae scooting off of the bed, and then the comforter underneath her getting tugged out, leaving her on the sheets, which, to be honest, Zitao could not have cared less about. The mattress dipped, Jongdae crawling in next to her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear until Zitao was fast asleep.

  
  
  
  
  


“Baby.”

“Mm.”

Jongdae leaned over on the bed, tucked a piece of Zitao’s hair behind her ear before pressing her lips against her ear and humming soft.

“You gotta shower, baby girl.”

Zitao scrunched her nose up, bunching up Jongdae’s blankets at her face and pulling them over with a quiet, _“no.”_

“Can’t you call me in sick again?” Zitao said, but knew better than to actually follow through, already giving in when she felt Jongdae tugging the blankets away from her shoulders and kissing the few freckles dotting her skin. Zitao could practically feel the smile growing on Jongdae’s lips against her skin, eyes fluttering shut, Jongdae’s soft eyelashes brushing against Zitao’s skin.

“How are you feeling?” Jongdae’s tone was laced with warm concern, her fingers brushing at the top of Zitao’s tummy.

“Sore,” Zitao said with a grimace, stretching her legs out, after being the little spoon all night with Jongdae at her back. One of Zitao’s knees popped, sighing with relief, while Jongdae massaged her hands down her back, kneading circles in her knotted up muscles and pressing kisses along the way. “You’re making it really hard to get out of bed.”

“I have that effect,” Jongdae teased. “Are you gonna be okay going to work?”

“Yeah.” Zitao groaned and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, moving to stand up and finding she was wearing... absolutely nothing. Figures. After she knocked out, Jongdae must have taken the liberty of taking Zitao’s panties off too, which made sense, considering they were wet from... everything. Putting it lightly, really.

“If you come home crying again, I’m not responsible for anything that happens to Junmyeon after the fact.”

“Stop,” Zitao laughed, felt Jongdae wrapping her arms around her shoulders and resting her chin on her shoulder. Zitao turned just enough to feel Jongdae’s lips a few inches away, kissing her easily, morning breath and drool spots and all. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I’m always gonna worry about you,” Jongdae said, sounding painfully honest. She lifted her thumb to Zitao’s bottom lip, dragged it down, before Zitao pressed a kiss to the pad of her thumb and gave her a short smile. “I’ll make some coffee before you go.”

Despite everything in Zitao’s body willing her to stay in bed, cuddle Jongdae early in the morning and kiss her and thank her for everything she did for Zitao, she knew she had to get up and shower, and Jongdae knew better than to keep her. So they both managed to pull away from one another, Jongdae wolf whistling at Zitao as she started towards the bathroom sans any clothes or blanket, and left the door open as she ran the water for her shower.

  
  


On Zitao’s lunch break, she scoured her purse for her wallet, lips in a firm pout as she messed around and pulled out a loose card. On the front of it was simple line of text, _Zhang Yixing,_ followed by her phone number. Scribbled on the back of it was a messy message in Mandarin, short and simple: _call when you’re ready for the next step._

Zitao swallowed hard at the sight of it, turned it over again and stared at the number like it was gonna jump out and bite her or something. Zitao couldn’t quite remember what it was Yixing did, just remembered Junmyeon trying to sweet talk her a lot about her ‘girls’, her ‘beautiful girls’— it seemed much more fishy than Zitao was sure it was. Yixing didn’t even leave her occupation on the card, which made it all the more cryptic, in a weird way. But Yixing was there at the dinner, so it’s not like Yixing must have done _much_ weird, cryptic shit.

And the next level was a bit of a given, pretty self-explanatory. After Yixing and the rest of them at that dinner had to witness Junmyeon giving Zitao no attention and no credit for any of her hard work, it was obvious what Yixing meant.

Zitao didn’t even realize she had pulled her phone out and dialed in the number until it was already pressed to her ear, ringing multiple times. When Zitao thought to hang up before she embarrassed herself, she heard a sudden and firm, “Zhang Yixing,” from the other line. This wasn’t a fucking _business_ number, Zitao panicked, her hands going warm as she flushed in embarrassment, already stuttering over her words. That’s why Yixing’s occupation wasn’t on the card, because it was a direct line to her.

“I-I— don’t know if you remember, er, giving me your card, but this is Huang Zitao,” she felt so stupid introducing herself, giving her inexperience away with the slightest of words. “We met at Kim Junmyeon’s dinner, but only briefly.”

“Ah, the assistant?” Yixing said so plainly, without a filter. Zitao let out a quiet hum of affirmation. “I was beginning to think my card had gotten lost in that bag of yours. How are you?”

“I’m....” Zitao furrowed her brows, tried to think of a proper response. This wasn’t small talk. She wasn’t calling to make conversation with Yixing. Zitao held her phone a little closer, took a deep breath and pushed her hair from her face. “I’m ready to take the next step.”

“Oh?” Yixing sounded pleasantly surprised.

“If Junmyeon won’t let me explore my potential, I want to be in a business where I can.”

“But you do know it wouldn’t be the same thing Junmyeon was grooming you for,” Yixing prefaced, her voice sounding distant for a moment, as if reaching for something. Zitao cleared her throat. “We aren’t looking for assistants to take over the magazine or modeling. Just a model.”

Zitao knew that, figured she’d be starting from the bottom rung— not that modeling wasn’t flattering, but she wanted more than that. She wanted to have her cake and eat it, too, own an empire. Junmyeon clearly wasn’t going to give that to her, even with a bit of fight, but Yixing— Yixing _might,_ and that was well enough for Zitao to agree to a meeting with Yixing about her future, without even thinking of Junmyeon, or the magazine, once.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to point out any mistakes, typos, etc. etc.
> 
> Also, don't practice rope bondage without doing serious research, TaoChen are just idiots and I'm a lazy writer.


End file.
